


Sharp Dressed Man

by littledozerbaby, ProfDrLachfinger



Series: Cobra (1986) [1]
Category: Cobra (1986), Die City-Cobra, Sylvester Stallone's Cobra
Genre: M/M, Male Slash, Maybe A Little Plot, One Shot, Plot What Plot, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Slash, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 11:56:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11035719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littledozerbaby/pseuds/littledozerbaby, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProfDrLachfinger/pseuds/ProfDrLachfinger
Summary: Marion Cobretti has broken up with his love-interest Ingrid, whom he had saved in one of his assignments as member of a elite devision called 'Zombie Squad'. Now he is out looking for someone to share the night with.





	Sharp Dressed Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [littledozerbaby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littledozerbaby/gifts).



> I am not sure how I can explain this fanfiction ... It is actually some sort of AU for [littledozerbaby's](http://littledozerdraws.tumblr.com) (who is also my lovely beta!) and my Rambo fanfiction [Where Do I Go From Here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8324143/chapters/19064905). Since both John Rambo and Marion Cobretti are played by Sylvester Stallone, it was fun to juxtapose them and see how different they are, albeit sharing the same physical appearances. Since John Rambo has Deputy Mitch as a possible love interest, played by David Caruso, we invented Gareth for Marion.
> 
> Maybe there are even some people who have seen and love the Cobra movie as we did! So yeah, that is all, enjoy! ;3
> 
> This isn't beta-read and English is not my native language.

[ ](http://profdrlachfinger.tumblr.com/post/161212025483/marion-cobretti-gareth-cobrapunk-a-illustration)

_*_

_"Clean shirt, new shoes, and I don't know where I am goin' to._  
_Silk suit, black tie, I don't need a reason why._  
_They come runnin' just as fast as they can'  
_ _cause every girl crazy 'bout a sharp dressed man."_

_ZZ TOP – Sharp Dressed Man_

_*_

 

Marion stepped through a throng of people. Left and right of him were cluster of excessively dressed men, holding drinks and sharing laughs over the loud and rhythmic boom of the music. Bright green, red and violet lights flashed and gave the whole club an otherworldly atmosphere.

Sporting his usual tight fitting jeans, black t-shirt with a v-neck and contrary to the dimness of the club, his black sunglasses, Marion strolled the upper levels of the club. If people had recognized him for who he was – a member of Los Angeles elite division called ‘Zombie Squad’ – they might have thought that he was on an undercover mission in one of Los Angeles’ most famous gay clubs, investigating for drug trafficking. But the complete opposite was the case. No one on his team or at his workplace knew, that Marion actually swung both ways.

At work everybody thought him for a sharp-talking warhorse who bent the laws to his liking while working ruthlessly on his case. Well, that was only one half of the truth. The other half was, next to dating very good looking women, he also dated very good looking men. Marion had never hid that fact from anyone, he wasn’t even very careful while visiting gay clubs or picking up some male company for the night. He just never talked about his private life at work and no one ever asked.

After the last case he had started a very passionate and turbulent relationship with Ingrid Knudsen, whom he had saved from some kind of new darwinistic sect. But after five months of hot sex, sensual dinners and lazy Sundays together in his top-floor flat it became clear, that they didn’t work out together. This time it wasn’t even the same old story about his work – Ingrid had accepted his life endangering job in a blink of an eye – but she was a sought-after model and that job forced her to move a lot and to work by a tight schedule. That and Marion’s own chaotic job, where he had to leave in the middle of the night to hunt after psycho-killers, made it hard for them to get together. They separated in friendship and from time to time they even talked on the phone. She was a high-class woman.

This was not how they told it in the police department. There Ingrid and Marion had heated telephone conversation, loud fights at his home and eventually Ingrid had dumped that wisecracking macho man everyone saw in him. Marion shrugged it off, if they needed that kind of story to make their life more entertaining, so be it.

In the upper levels of the club the music was duller and the lights less bright, so he pushed his sunglasses down a fraction and looked around. There hadn’t been many men who had caught his eye and the ones who had chatted him up soon turned out to be rather boring. Suddenly his gaze chanced upon a strange scene.

Next to the balustrade looking over the dance floor were small tables set for two to three people. At one of those tables sat a young man with a shock of red hair cut into a strange hairdo; The lower part of his head, ending just above his ears was cut short. But above that his red hair stood up in a soft wave. Once it must have been neatly combed back but now strands of it fell into his brow. He had an open, slightly roundish face and very pale skin, as if he didn’t really live in Los Angeles. And then there were his clothes. As far as Marion could see that, beside a black leather choker, he wore a slightly torn and cropped t-shirt, that ended just short of his navel and behind him on the chair hung a black leather jacket.

That in itself wasn’t a strange scene, but that boy was beleaguered by three other man. Two stood in front of the table and bent forward, leering. The third man had drawn up a chair and had slung his arm around the red haired man’s shoulders, while his other hand vanished beneath the table. Marion was only too aware of what it might be doing there or planned to do. He stepped closer.

"Come on, buddy. Why so shy?" The sitting man intoned and leaned closer.

The young man hissed something in return, his face annoyed, but Marion couldn’t hear his reply.

"Clearly your friends have forgotten about you. But we’re your friends now. Come with us and you’ll have a great time, we promise you. Don’t we, Clive?" The sitting man gave the boy a rough shake and turned to one of the standing men.

"We sure will, Joe," The man called Clive answered and as if to emphasize their barely concealed intentions he adjusted his fantasy cock in his tight pants.

The boy shook his head with more vehemence and viciously shoved his elbow at the man next to him while trying to get up. He was pulled down by Joe rather roughly and the hand on his knee pushed up by several inches. The red haired man jerked back and pushed at Joe some more, but he was clearly too slight in build to achieve anything. But that didn’t seem to discourage him, he kept on trying to land punches on the man that held him tight.

In a smooth movement Marion stepped up behind the two standing men, slinging his arms around their shoulders, as if they were best friends. "So, what’s the big hold up here?"

"What the– Fuck off man!" Both men tried to break lose but Marion held fast.

"I don’t think I’ll, but I rather suggest that you do," He said in his cool voice, eyeing Joe.

"Hey, can’t you see that we’re having a private conversation here?" Joe snapped, strengthening his grip on the boy who squirmed like a feral cat.

"The hell we are!" The red haired man hissed.

"I agree. Cornering someone three to one doesn’t look like a private conversation to me, it looks more like a forced interrogation." Marion pulled his arms tighter, still retaining the wriggling and cursing men.

"You son of a–" Was as far as the guy in his right arm came, before Marion crashed that guy’s head together with that of his friend and shoved them both back from the table. Flailing and shouting they went to the ground, the club’s visitors parted around the scene, looking alarmed.

"What do you think you’re doing, sonny?" Joe still sitting at the table shouted and got up. "If you want a bitch for tonight look elsewhere, this one’s mine."

"I ain’t anybody's bitch!" The boy spat and managed to break free and with a sift move shoved Joe out of the chair.

Marion grinned and agreed, "I think he’s right." And with that he used the distraction caused by the red haired man, lunged forward and he punched Joe straight in his face, sending him reeling over this chair. The boy next to him stepped back and pressed into the balustrade.

The people around them gave out shocked gasps and started to shuffle away from them in a rise of panic. Marion walked around the table and pulled the man to his feet by his collar, already stained by his bleeding nose.

"If I ever see your shit-eating face here again, I’ll make sure that you won’t be able to eat even that," Marion whispered and shoved him back into his two cronies who had just come back swaying to their feet. The three men stumbled over each other to get down towards the exit. Marion adjusted his sunglasses and looked around. The guests had unsure looks about their faces, eying Marion curiously but then deciding that everything must be alright again they got back to their drinks and conversations.

Satisfied with the outcome, Marion went back to the red-haired man and put a careful hand on his shoulder. The boy twitched and his head jerked up, ready to defend himself again, but his face relaxed the instant he saw Marion.

"Can I get you a drink?" Marion wanted to know, smiling.

"I," The other man seemed a little bit startled at the sudden offer, but then returned a genuine smile. "That’d be great. Thanks."

Marion thumbed the man’s shoulder amiably and went off towards the bar. He returned with two Cuba Libres and two bottled beers in his hand and sat them on the table.

"Oh, I thought you said drink," The red-haired man laughed, looking completely composed already, as if nothing had ever happened.

"Beer’s for the thirst," Marion explained and grinned.

"I have to keep that in mind," The younger man replied and took a sip from said beer and ran a hand through his tousled hair, combing it back in place.

"So, what was that all about?" Marion wanted to know and took a generous swallow of the Cuba Libre and reclined in the rickety chair.

"If only I knew! They just chatted me up, wanting me to go along with them. I flat out refused but they were very persistent," A strand of red hair fell forward again and grazed his brow as he shook his head in disbelief. "I really wanted to kick their asses some more. But yeah, they were too many. Luckily you stepped in. So thanks for that, Mister …" He looked up and Marion was instantly captured by the bright blue eyes, shining with an impish gleam rather fitting his wild way of dress and provocative haircut.

"No need to thank me, I think we made a good team. And the name’s," Marion stopped, he always hated that part. "Marion."

"Oh, interesting name; _the stubborn one_. I’m Gareth," Gareth explained, fiddling with the label of his beer bottle.

"Never met someone who knew that about my name," Marion grinned and leaned forward, lightly touching Gareth’s fumbling hand. "But tell me, Gareth. You really feel alright again?" Somehow he didn’t trust the rough and roguish façade completely.

In the flickering light of the club it was hard to tell, but Marion could have sworn that Gareth blushed a little from the tip of his ears, down his graceful pale throat, that was only to generously revealed due the low neck-line of his shirt. Despite the might-be blush, his lips where pulled up in an open smile "Oh yeah, I’m alright. I’m used to a little rough-housing."

"Good, would’ve been a shame to ruin your evening like that," Marion said, leaned back again and swallowed more of his drink.

"I’m not so sure about that. Actually I was to meet my friends here, but somehow they didn’t show up," Gareth explained readily enough, trying his Cuba Libre.

Marion grinned and watched Gareth closely. At first he had looked quite young, only around his early twenties at best, but now he could see that he must be more in his late twenties, early thirties. Despite that, his face was made up by a very playful expression with a knowing, streetwise touch. His bright blue eyes held a gauging but friendly look. Marion found that he was rather enthralled by the fine, fiery hair, that crowned his head and fell unruly into his face. He could even get used to the haircut.

"I see. Well, now I’m here to keep you company. Up for that?" Marion wanted to know and put on his most flirtatious voice, swirling the ice cubes around in his drink.

Gareth gulped down more Cuba Libre and looked surprised but then he smiled warmly. "Oh, yes. That would be really nice." He gave Marion a coy look from under his fringe.

Despite the loud music, the flickering lights and a lot of people passing by, Marion had the most interesting conversation by far. It turned out that Gareth, was rather a talkative person, who listened as well as he talked and had also a fine sense of wry humor. The subjects they talked about varied from who Gareth’s friends were, who _he_ was and what he worked as to what Marion did – this time only described in broad terms – and smaller tidbits about their interests and day to day life. 

As it turned out, Gareth was a social worker, who worked in close relation with the L. A. police department in order to re-socialize criminal and convicted youths. He himself had lead quite a criminal life out on the streets when he had been a teenager but had managed to get out of there and now wanted to do the same for other people. He might have left the criminal life on the streets behind, but his clothing style had stayed the same and Marion guessed that it was the same with his ingenious and tough attitude. He couldn’t deny that he found both rather enthralling.

"So what’s the match for then?" Gareth wanted to know, working on the third Cuba Libre Marion had bought him.

"This?" Marion replied and took the match from the corner of his mouth, twiddling between his fingers. "I used to smoke, see. But the effects it had on my health wasn’t something I wanted to buy in, so I quit. The match’s a substitute when I fancy a smoke."

"I see and you wear the sunglasses to protect the health of your sensitive eyes from the harsh moonlight at nights?" Gareth asked with a matter of fact voice.

At first Marion was completely thunderstruck by the question, but then he realized that he really had kept his sunglasses on the whole time and gave a heartfelt laugh that shook his whole body. "Ah, no!" He exclaimed and pushed them up into his thick, black hair. "I just like some privacy at clubs. Don’t want people to stare into my face so openly."

Gareth grinned, it was a sweet grin that gave his round features a quite rakish touch. Marion wanted to see more of it.

"I can understand that," the red-haired man replied.

"What," Marion asked with mock offense in his voice, "That ugly?"

"No, on the contrary, you’ve got very gentle eyes," Gareth explained with such an enamoring smile that Marion felt his heart accelerate.

Marion wasn’t sure if it was the hammering heart in his chest or the amount of alcohol he had consumed, but Gareth’s presence made him light-headed. So without much preamble, he asked, "Would you fancy a coffee at my place?"

Of course they both knew what that meant, but speaking it out directly would ruin the magic of their chanced meeting.

It was hard to tell in this vague lighting but Marion was sure that Gareth’s eyes glinted for just a second as he adverted his gaze. But when he looked up he saw his own desire mirrored in them.

"Sure, I’d love to."

***

As soon as they got out of the cab, Marion slung an arm around Gareth’s waist. The leather jacket was nearly as short as the cropped shirt Gareth was wearing so Marion’s hands immediately found the soft skin underneath. His waist was slight but firm to the touch and Marion had to stop himself from letting his hand travel further. Despite being taller than Marion, Gareth felt very fragile in his arm and the need to just cradle the other man in a crushing embrace arose without any warning. Marion had never felt that way before, but it was something he could get accustomed to.

Gareth leaned into the touch and his hand dipped into Marion’s back pocket, a sign of his obvious confidence. And lust, so Marion hoped.

They entered the small alleyway, which didn’t allow any cars and went up the dingy stairway on the back of one of the shops on which roof Marion’s apartment was located. The narrow path between the different apartments was cast in shadows but as soon as they entered the terrace over looking the sea and leading to his door it was bathed in a bright blue and pinkish glow, coming from the huge Pepsi sign.

"Wait, let me get the door," Marion announced as they entered the last small hallway leading to his top-floor apartment.

Marion had just turned the key when Gareth asked him, "When were you going to tell me that you’re _the_ Marion Cobretti?"

From one second to another Marion’s whole elation dropped off of him and the beginning arousal diminished. He wasn’t sure why, but guilt racked him as he turned around with a pained look, facing the younger man and leaving the door ajar.

"How d’you know that?" he wanted to know because he never set up a door-sign for obvious reasons. So how did Gareth figure out his last name? Surely people called Marion couldn’t be that rare. Or could they?

Gareth didn’t look particularly accusing or angry, just plain … curious?

"Well, I told you I’m working together with the L.A.P.D. and you’re quite the subject of conversation. Among the gay officers anyway," Gareth explained, running a hand through the longer strands of his hair and Marion had to fight the urge to bury his fingers in it and slowly trace the stubble of the cropped hair down to Gareth’s neck.

"And … what do the say?" Marion asked cautiously. He had never thought about whom he dated in the gay bars and if there actually were some officers from his own police department among his one night stands.

Gareth shrugged his fine shoulders and appeared quite relaxed about answering. "Just that’s wonderful for the night but after that you’re hard to pin down. That you make yourself scarce." He looked up with his shining blue eyes that looked inquiring but equally consumed by desire that it sent Marion reeling with lust.

"Well … It’s hard for me to keep in touch with the kind of job I have," he said and it was the truth.

Suddenly Gareth awarded him with such a glowing smile that for a second Marion completely forgot what they had been talking about. In the soft moonlight Gareth’s pale skin turned to alabaster and his fine hair shimmered like molten bronze. The way he stood his jeans had slipped down another inch from their original lopsided position on Gareth’s slim hips, revealing more pale skin and soft curves.

"I think it’s their loss for not being persistent enough," was all Gareth said and his voice had taken on a husky, longing tone.

And that was all the invitation Marion needed. In one graceful movement he grabbed Gareth’s arm, twirled him around, pushed him through the threshold into the kitchen beyond and against the nearest wall, while he shut the door with one savage kick. And then his hands were upon Gareth’s waist and his fingers dug in hungrily. 

Gareth let out a deep moan before Marion pressed their lips together in a feverish kiss. Their lips and tongues roamed each other’s mouth in desperate and messy movements. But neither of them cared.

Gareth’s hands found a hold on Marion’s neck and he pulled the other man even closer into the kiss that was getting wetter and more heated by the minute. All of Marion’s previous cautions evaporated in his growing arousal, as he ground his groin against Gareth’s and the other man squirmed in his firm grip.

With fumbling hands Gareth managed to tug the soft black shirt out of Marion’s tight fitting jeans and as soon as his fingers found the warm flesh beneath the fabric they started caressing it all over. At first they followed the harsh line of Marion’s adonis belt and then up over his flat belly to his chest. When they finally settled on Marion’s nipples the smaller man growled deeply and bit into Gareth’s lower lip, sucking it in.

In a flurry of bumps and stumbling steps, Marion pushed Gareth in the direction of his bedroom on the left hand side of his apartment while simultaneously undressing the younger man and bruising his lips with his kisses. He never bothered with switching on the lights because the Pepsi sign from outside bathed everything in its bright glow and like the living room area of his flat, his bedroom had a window paned roof.

When they reached the bed Marion was only dressed in his ever tightening boxers, having managed to kick off his jeans and boots. His heart was thrumming in his chest and his fingers trembled with longing as he pushed Gareth back an inch to break their kiss. Panting, Gareth stood before him, he too only dressed in his briefs and the choker around his neck. He had the figure of a runner, long legs and slim build but here and there soft curves spoke of his non-physical work. Marion found that rather exciting and brushed a hand over the small stomach. The pale complexion had taken on a rosy blush that sent the rest of Marion’s blood rushing down between his legs.

Completely taken up by lust, Marion’s other hand cupped Gareth’s neck, the choker jingling, then let his hand slide down over his delicate chest, where he circled one nipple, before trailing even lower and finally dipped beneath the waistband of the younger man’s briefs.

Gareth’s eyes widened and he gasped, unable to say anything more. Taking the chance, Marion dove in for another bruising kiss and sent them both tumbling into bed.

When finally their boxers were stripped from them too, Marion forgot where he stopped and Gareth began. They lay intertwined, arms slung about each other, fingers roaming and fondling while they only separated to take shallow breaths between the passionate kisses they shared.

Beneath his fingers Gareth’s skin felt like soft silk, as he drew a lascivious line down Gareth’s hip and over his thigh, curving inward. Gareth gasped but he hitched up his leg, giving Marion more space. Gradually Marion curled his hand around Gareth’s erection and eased into slow, steady strokes, taking in every moan and sigh that escaped the red haired man’s parted lips.

"M– Marion," Gareth breathed as he arched backward, straining against the smaller man’s firm but tender administrations while his hands dug deliciously painful into Marion’s shoulders. He needn’t say more.

"Hm hmm," Marion agreed and nipped at Gareth’s neck he had managed to expose after nudging the choker higher up. Before getting up he licked Gareth’s collarbone affectionately.

Marion withdrew his hand and sat up, extracting a frustrated moan from Gareth who was sprawled all over the sheets as if boneless. Marion flicked through his drawer and finding what he was searching for bent back towards the man in front of his knees.

He placed a lingering kiss behind Gareth’s ear, where he found the other man to be very sensitive and whispered, "Do you want to roll over?"

Gareth gave a small nod and rolled onto his side, facing Marion with his back. Fascinated by the fine features of the younger man’s backside, Marion settled himself behind him and ran his fingers along the fine cut, that separated the cropped hair from the longer strands that had caught his attention at first sight. Gareth sighed under the touch and Marion started to draw his hand downward over the elegant neck and delicately curved shoulder blades, towards the small of the back. Marion was enthralled by the other man’s stunning features, his soft, high voice and his ready smile that Gareth had given him without any restraints or fears. Desire burned through Marion’s veins as his hand slipped even further but he stopped himself before getting too eager.

Marion withdrew his hand and applied a generous amount of lube before he slipped his fingers back between Gareth’s cheeks. A startled gasp fled from Gareth as Marion began his slow massage. After the first hesitant seconds Gareth eased into the touch and started leaning back. With hungry licks and nips Marion’s mouth worked his way from Gareth’s shoulder to his arching neck, placing kiss after kiss upon the sensitive skin making the taller man squirm even more.

In one blind movement Gareth raised his hand got hold on Marion’s neck who had brought one arm under him to sit up slightly.

Pressing close like this Marion husked, "You ready?" and got a desperate nod in return. With that he withdrew his fingers, got hold of Gareth’s hip and carefully pulled him close, entering him.

Marion’s whole vision clouded with the sensation of being inside Gareth. His breath came in labored gasps as he pressed his face into the crook of the younger man’s neck. He kept a firm hold on the slim hips, sure to leave marks in the morning. Slowly his gaze cleared and he felt a stiffened Gareth pressing against his chest. Marion eased his hold and let one hand travel upward, stroking the other man’s chest in a soothing motion. Inch by inch Gareth relaxed and Marion began to rock against him with deep but tender thrusts.

It didn’t took them long to finish, their need for each other was too apparent, their lust too overwhelming. So with two final thrust Marion came, stifling his moan by biting Gareth’s neck who now gave a shuddering breath and a hitched sigh after he came too.

Panting and shivering they both lay in bed, letting the rest of their orgasm wash over them, bathing them in satisfaction and satiated desire. Without thinking about it, Marion gradually extracted himself from Gareth and slung his arm over the younger man’s chest and held him fast. Now able to move more freely, Gareth turned around and kissed Marion. This time it was a slow considerate kiss that took an eternity to end and when it did, their lips lingered on for a moment longer before Gareth let his head slump against Marion’s broad chest, now covered in sweat.

At peace with himself and the world, Marion began rubbing his hands over Gareth’s back, receiving a satisfied hum from the other man.

"Say, what does _Gareth_ mean?" Marion asked in a rough whisper, bringing his lips close to Gareth’s head.

"It means _gentle_ ," Gareth replied with a spent but happy voice.

Marion chuckled as he planted a kiss on Gareth’s head. "Suits you."

***

The next morning Gareth woke to the sunshine falling through the windowed ceiling and onto the bed with a heavy warmth. He had curled himself up in the thin sheets to cover his naked body. Sleepily he rolled onto his backside and groaned at the soreness of his legs. But other than that a deep satisfaction had nestled itself in his heart as he opened his eyes to the disorderly but very charming bedroom of Marion Cobretti.

Gareth knew that Marion was not at home, he didn’t even need to check. Yesterday evening they had fallen asleep arm in arm, still drugged by their heavy and passionate love making. But at some point in the small hours, Marion had extracted himself from Gareth, searched for his clothes and taken a shower. Gareth knew that there was no way of making Marion stay or indeed the need to. He had shown the other man quite clearly what he felt for him, so now it was Marion’s turn to react.

While Marion showered, Gareth had drifted off to sleep again, only to realize too late, that Marion had placed a soft kiss on his forehead and then left the apartment. With a confident feeling Gareth had dozed off once more.

Now he sat amidst the rumpled sheets of the huge king sized bed and stretched. Carefully Gareth got up and looked around until he saw the open wardrobe on the opposite wall. Rubbing a hand through his tired face he tugged one of Marion’s black shirts out of it and put it on. He thought about keeping it and maybe cutting it to size.

Dressed like that he vacated the room and made for the kitchen, hunger gnawing at his stomach. When he entered the space in question his eyes fell upon a small tablet on the littered counter. It held a small glass of orange juice, some mismatching cutlery and beneath an upturned platter a heap of pancakes, still lukewarm. With a surprised gasp Gareth tore off a piece and ate it ravenously when he suddenly spied a paper stuck under the glass.

Curious, Gareth extracted it and turned it around. In a broad but clear handwriting a string of numbers had been written down. A telephone number. With an even broader grin Gareth waggled the piece of paper in his hands and brought it up to his mouth for a kiss. Certainty making his heart soar. As he had told Marion, it was the other guy’s loss for not being persistent enough. But Gareth would make sure that he never lost track of Marion Cobretti. Come what may.

**~ FIN ~**

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone found themselves giving this fic a kudos or even leaving a comment ... thank you so very much, you're great! <3


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